Entertainment
by Disgrayceful Ways
Summary: Whenever the Joker was bored, he'd turn his attentions to Harley.  M for abuse


Somewhere in the darkest parts of the city sat an abandon warehouse. It sat in spooky splendor as rain fell all around, making the alley ways surrounding it sound more like an ocean than anything. The warehouse was the latest hideout of the most notorious couple in Gotham and perhaps, the world.

Currently the man of the house was sitting on a rickety old couch, pouting his life away. His green hair and white skin glowed under the fluorescent lights that hung precariously about him. Every now and then a sigh would fall out of him and he would sink even further into the couch.

He was incredibly bored and he couldn't even go out and reek havoc in the city. The whole world was looking for them since he had bombed city hall during a press conference. There wasn't a damn thing he could do without risking himself getting caught and that was _not_ going to happen right now. He didn't really feel like dealing with Arkham or their electroshock therapy.

Suddenly, like a light exploding, the Clown Prince had an idea. A brilliant one at that. He could just mess with Harley. The poor imbecile would be entertaining enough for the moment and give him the attention he so craved. What was best was that the Joker didn't really need to say much to be on the receiving end of Harley's attention. In fact, yelling for her was always completely unnecessary, however, "HAR—LEY!" still managed to spill from Joker's scarred smile and echo into the hideout. He stood up, looking towards the set of stairs she'd be coming down.

Within seconds he could hear the little twit scrambling to get to him as she ran down the stairs like a bull. He could hear the clumsy blonde's desperate footfalls as she tried her best to get to her, "Puddin'" as fast as she could. Eventually she was in front of him, having tripped over herself and landed face first at his feet with her barely clad ass in the air.

She stood quickly and straightened herself, looking up at the Clown Prince with wide blue eyes and an even wider smile, "Yes Mistah Jay?" He took a moment to take her appearance in. She was wearing a rather revealing baby blue top and even more revealing black shorts. In fact, he was pretty sure they were women's boxer briefs. Her blonde hair was in messy pigtails and she had some dirt smudged on her right cheek. She had probably been cleaning, the Clown mused. His eyes made contact with hers once again.

The silly little woman was so eager to please, practically bouncing in anticipation for his orders. He didn't say anything to her for a minute or so but her smile never faded. Then, without much warning as was custom of the Joker, he let his fist fly and make contact with her pretty little mouth. She stumbled back in surprise, covering the now busted lip with both of her hands. Tears form in her eyes, confused by whatever wrong doing she may have committed to warrant such attention from her lover. She didn't allow them to fall though and instead waited for his explanation.

"What are you wearing, you insolent little whore?" He seethed. He didn't actually care what she was wearing, but he had told her before to dress decently outside of their bedroom plenty of times. It seemed like a good start for his unprovoked abuse. Besides, he reasoned with himself, how could he keep people listening to him if his own woman didn't? And who the hell was she to flaunt around his goods to other people? It just simply would not do.

"I-I—I'm wearing my p-pajamas." she stuttered out, wholly perplexed by the sudden anger. She looked down at her outfit and her eyes went wide in realization, her eyes then snapped back to the abusive man in front of her. "I'm s-sorry Mistah Jay, I just...I just was about ta go t-ta b-bed." The answer didn't seem to satisfy Joker as he approached, stepping menacingly in front of her. "What have I told you about dressing, Harls? Cause surely I've told you something!" His already frightening grin was twisted in a repulsive snarl and Harley quivered underneath his intense gaze, "Ya said n-not ta c-come out of da room w-without p-proper clothes." Her voice was small, trying to figure out a way to appease the Criminal mastermind in front of her.

"So you admit you know what I told you, but you still insist on coming out looking like a tramp, blatantly disregarding my orders...?" It was a trap, she knew, and there wasn't much she could do at this point. "N-no, Mistah Jay. I j-just wanted ta c-come see what ya needed as f-fast as po-possible!" She cringed as her only response was his cackling laughter. "That's no excuse,_ pooh._"

With that, he began to hit her starting with a few slaps to her face, then evolving to full blown punches. In less that four seconds her cheeks began to swell and her eyes were turned black. Blood dripped from her brow and lips, falling onto her baby blue shirt. She resisted the urge to cover her face, and only stumbled backwards as her Mistah Jay beat the living hell out of her.

Slowly, the Joker's faked anger was becoming real. The little bitch wouldn't cry, didn't even flinch all the much. He knocked her to the floor and began to kick, feeling the satisfying way her bones collapsed under his dress shoes.

Eventually he dropped down on top of her, boney hands wrapping around her delicate little throat, squeezing tightly as she turned a dangerous shade of red and purple. It was then he began to scream in her face, yellowish teeth dripping with spit and venom, "YOU'RE A STUPID WHORE, DO YOU HEAR ME? HOW DARE YOU WALK AROUND LIKE A LITTLE PROSTITUTE! DO I LOOK LIKE A MAN WHO WOULD WANT THE LIKES OF TRASH TO BE HANGING OFF HIS ARM?"

Harley, at this point couldn't help but let the tears fall as she began to black out. But as soon as Joker noticed she was going to pass out, he let go and allowed her to cough and gasp. He began to rip at her clothes, tearing them off with painful force, all the while screaming how she might as well be nude. He stood up then, kicking her naked body more for good measure, bruises and cuts appearing like magic on her. She began to wail, screaming for mercy, but then everything went silent. She passed out from the pain.

He stopped his beating and looked at Harley with hateful eyes. He snorted, "Well, that _was_ fun." His anger drained from him quite quickly now that he had managed to make her beg for mercy. It also wouldn't be fun anymore with her passed out and unable to look at him with those fearful eyes. So, instead, he took off his purple jacket and covered her nude body and began his way to the bedroom, only pausing momentarily to look back at the black, blue, and red form of Harley Quinn to cheerfully say,

"Goodnight, Harls dear. See you in the morning!"


End file.
